


Vendetta

by hazellepotter



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Federal Agents, Crimes & Criminals, Cussing, Enemies to Lovers, F/M, Muggle AU, Oral Sex, Sex, Speed Dating, Valentine's Day
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-07
Updated: 2019-02-07
Packaged: 2019-10-24 04:47:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,797
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17697941
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hazellepotter/pseuds/hazellepotter
Summary: Blaise leaned forward so their faces were close together; he felt her calm breath against his lips. She was completely composed and under control. Nothing like she was earlier that day. They both could feel other people's eyes on them, they probably figured they had already met their match and would leave after this round. Blaise was pretty sure they were right.





	Vendetta

Blaise was a notorious womanizer. He wasn't ashamed of that fact, but he didn't take pride from it either. Sex was sex, relationships were weakness. That is what his mother had always taught him, anyway. Use people to protect yourself and get what you need and make sure to get out fast. It was second nature to Blaise at this point; it was a way of life. Why should he change it now even though his mother was thousands of miles away? It had been working for him for years. 

The truth was, Blaise didn't know any other way, and he was afraid to step away from what he had always known. He was afraid of that vulnerability. He had been humiliated once in his life by someone he thought he could care for, and he wouldn't let it happen again. So when his least favorite holiday came around, he decided to use it to his advantage. There would be lonely girls around that would give him what he wanted - information on the dean's son, who was also a notorious womanizer, and it would give him a few minutes of pleasure. And who knows, he might learn a few new tricks from these women. Blaise knew you learned something from everyone you met. 

Campus was overflowing with couples mastering the art of PDA and over-exaggeration of their feelings that probably didn't really exist. He smirked to himself as he watched a girl swoon over her boyfriend giving her a stuffed teddy bear he saw at Wal-Mart for five dollars two days before. If only she knew he got that as a bargain, or maybe she knew and didn't care. She just wanted to feel important like everyone else.

Blaise walked with his hands in his pockets across the campus grounds until he saw her. Her blonde locks were flowing down her back, and she gave him a flirtatious smile that hinted _"you will be getting fucked in the near future"_ while also appearing like she had better things to do. It was truly an art.

As he approached her, she kissed him forcefully on the mouth. He didn't push her away, this was the game he played.

"Now Blaise," she started, "You are taking me out tonight, right?" 

He knew it wasn't a request, it was a demand. He would oblige for now, get what he wanted, and leave her the next day. That was his pattern.

"Yes, Daphne," he reassured her, "I will be taking you out tonight. But I have to be in by eight, alright, love?" He kissed her on the cheek then, and he felt the blush against her cheeks. He knew she wanted to protest that he had to be in so early, but he also knew she wouldn't turn down some time with him. That's how it always was for him. The girls would flock after his name and fortune, even if they knew their fate. But there were always the ones that were too naive to see the game he was actually playing.

Daphne was looping her arms around his neck when they were suddenly hit with wet sludge. Daphne squealed and stepped away from him, but Blaise didn't move. He just glared across the campus lawn to see who their attacker was. Snowballs were a very childish tactic, if he said so himself.

It was then he caught sight of her. Her blazing red hair was blowing against the winter air, and she was preparing another snowball. He raised his brow, deciding to challenge her. She gave him just what he wanted and chucked the snowball in his direction. This time, he diverted it rather easily.

"If you want to play dirty," he called after her, "You might as well come up close and personal." 

Daphne giggled, and he saw the red head glare back at him. He figured she would run off at that point, but instead, she marched towards him in her hideous combat boots that he was pretty sure he saw through the window when he walked by Ross last week. _She would be the type to bargain shop._

When she finally approached him, he realized she was smaller than he would have expected. He was almost a foot taller than her. Her light brown eyes were blazing like her hair. If she would be any element, it would be fire. He tried to recognize her face, but her name was not coming to mind. The only reason she could be angry with him though was because he hooked up with her at some point and didn't call her back.

Daphne latched onto Blaise's arm. He wanted to push her away, but he was a gentleman, after-all. You don't do that, even if she is just a casual fuck. He did have more respect than that.

The redhead finally spoke, "I'm not surprised to see you have another gremlin attached to your hip, Zabini."

"And you are?" He asked.

She rolled her eyes, "That doesn't matter. All I know is that you broke my friend's heart for another one of your pets."

It was now Daphne's turn to glare, "I am not his pet, you wretched whor-"

"Stop-" Blaise interrupted her, "She has a right to be angry."

Daphne gave him a shocked expression, but then he kissed her on the cheek watching the redhead's face as he did so. She looked like she was going to blow chunks. He loved her revulsion. It gave him an adrenaline rush. 

Daphne leaned into him and he whispered into her ear, "See you later, love. I'm going to take care of this."

Daphne smiled up at him and flung her blonde locks over her shoulder. She gave the redhead one last dirty look and walked away in the snow in her six inch heels. He wondered how she didn't fall in them in this weather. Talent, he figured.

Blaise turned his full attention to the redhead now and crossed his arms. He studied her up and down, and she snapped her finger in his face.

"I'm not here for you to study and oogle at. Yeah, I'm hot, but I'm here for revenge."

He lifted his brow and laughed. He actually laughed. Full belly laughing was not Blaise's thing, but he couldn't stop.

"Stop laughing at me!" She spat, "You are such an asshole."

He stopped laughing long enough to catch his breath, then he seriously asked her, "Now which friend's honor are you defending? I have to say I have seen a lot of woman recently so I can't say that I-"

Before he knew it, the redhead had smacked him across the face. _Hard._

He instinctively touched his cheek and felt angry, but he made sure to keep composure. He was like ice, not fire. He wouldn't give into this impulsive bullshit.

"Her name is Millicent Bulstrode," the redhead told him, "My roommate."

"Ah, yes," Blaise pondered, "Millicent. I remember her. Very luscious curves, too eager to be touched."

The redhead turned her hands into fists at her side.

"Stop toying with her," the redhead demanded, "And other woman while we're at it. You know, some people actually have feelings."

"I know I do, my ego is real bruised right now," Blaise joked, "Just like my cheek is going to be in the morning."

The redhead huffed and turned around abruptly. She attempted to walk away from him, but Blaise wasn't finished yet. He had to know her name. 

"So what's the name of Millicent's friend defending her honor?" Blaise called after her. 

The redhead didn't turn around to acknowledge him. She just kept walking across the courtyard, but she did reach her arm back behind her body and flipped him off. 

Blaise grinned.

* * *

Blaise zipped up the fly of his pants and reached down for his jacket. Daphne rolled over in her bed wearing her baby pink lingerie and gave him a pouty lip.

"Do you really have to go?" She whined, "I feel like we were just getting started."

"I told you I had to leave by eight," he said, "I'll call you tomorrow."

But he wouldn't. He found out what he needed about Theodore Nott, and he surely got what he needed from her. The dean's son wouldn't know what hit him.

She pouted as he left her bedroom and out of her dorm room and checked his wristwatch. The speed-dating event he was going to started in twenty minutes; he was happy to know he would make it on time. He knew a lot of Theodore's ex-girlfriends would be there. They always were, and it was the perfect opportunity for more information. 

As he drove across town, the redhead from the courtyard came to his mind. He had never met someone who vehemently hated him like that. It gave him the same rush he experienced earlier, but now it was down to his groin. He pulled himself together as he found a parking spot and adjusted his collar in his rearview mirror. He walked into the great hall where the speed-dating Valentine's event was being held and signed in at the front desk. The receptionist blubbered and smiled at him; he had her wrapped around his finger. She handed him his name-tag and waved to him as he made his way to the banquet hall. She then leaned over to gossip about him excitedly to her receptionist friend. At least he knew if he didn't take home one of the ladies from the event, he could take her home easily. He memorized her name-tag that said Tracey.

All the women at the event were dressed to the nines. They wore tight revealing dresses and heels they could barely walk in. Blaise tried to find the woman he would talk to first so he could pick his first table, and it was then he noticed a familiar redhead across the way.

She was wearing a skin-tight emerald dress with black fishnets. She wore five inch velvet heels and a diamond bracelet around her wrist. It was as though she was a different person. Before his mind even made the decision, his body was walking towards her.

Once she caught sight of him, she rolled her eyes and pursed her red lips. All Blaise could think about was how they would feel against his dick. 

"Well, well, well," he joked, "You clean up nicely."

She snorted and took a drink from her flute of champagne. Blaise quickly grabbed one from the waiter passing by. The redhead still didn't say anything, but she tapped her freshly painted nails against her glass as she took a seat. He took the seat across from her.

"This doesn't seem like your kind of event," he commented, "What are you doing here?"

"No questions until the bell rings," she told him, "That's how speed-dating works."

He grinned and she took another sip from her drink. Blaise watched her until the bell rang, then she set down her glass and crossed her legs under the table. He could feel her foot on his calf and tried not to let it distract him. 

"What is a rebel like you doing here?" He asked again, "You seem like the type that would personally despise these events and try to revolt against them."

She laughed, "I definitely despise these events, but I have an agenda."

Blaise cocked his brow, "Oh?"

She leaned forward across the table to the point where he could look down her dress. Her cleavage was showing, and he shifted in his seat to control himself.

"What do you know about the dean's son, Theodore Nott?"

Blaise leaned forward so their faces were close together; he felt her calm breath against his lips. She was completely composed and under control. Nothing like she was earlier that day. They both could feel other people's eyes on them, they probably figured they had already met their match and would leave after this round. Blaise was pretty sure they were right.

"Who's asking?"

She smirked and took another sip of her champagne, "The authorities."

Blaise choked on his own spit, and she waited impatiently as he tried to compose himself. _Did she know of his plan? Was she a fed?_

"Calm down, Zabini," she told him quietly, "I don't care what your original plans were, but I will tell you what your new plans are."

The grin on her face was wicked as she motioned him to lean forward even closer to her. Her lips were against his ear; he felt shivers go down his spine.

**_"You're going to help me put that son of a bitch behind bars."_ **

* * *

The bell rang for the next round, and Blaise leaned back in his chair and away from her blinking rapidly. _Was this really happening?_ She was still leaning forward over the table and smiled seductively at the next guy trying to sit down, but she impulsively grabbed Blaise's hand and silently demanded him to stand up with her.

"Sorry," she told the stranger, "I already found my catch for the night."

She winked at Blaise and maneuvered his arm around her waist. He tried to keep calm and walked out of the banquet hall with her. They were back at the front desk again, and Tracey smiled widely when she caught sight of him, but when she saw the redhead, she pursed her lips and looked annoyed. She wasn't going to get fucked tonight, and she was now well-aware.

"I would like my room-key," the redhead told her, "We have a little bit of business to discuss."

Tracey didn't say anything as she typed away at her keyboard and readied the room key. Blaise didn't dare utter a word. He knew now that this woman was not to be messed with. His powers of persuasion and manipulation could only go so far, and she had him beat.

"Here you go, Miss Weasley," Tracey said as she handed the redhead her room-key, "Room 536."

Miss Weasley smiled, "Thank you, Tracey."

The redhead, who he now knew as Miss Weasley, looped her arm through his and led him to the elevator. They didn't say anything the whole ride up to her room, but as soon as she shut the door behind them, she marched over to her mini fridge and took out a small bottle of vodka and downed it. 

Impressed, Blaise sat down on the bed and watched her, still stunned to silence. 

Miss Weasley kicked off her heels and started to unzip her dress. Blaise looked away, which was unusual for him. He would usually revel in a moment like that where he hardly had to put in any work.

She chuckled to herself, "Why look away when I know this is what you basically do for survival? Go ahead, take a look."

Blaise looked up at her and admired her black lace lingerie. _She would be the type of girl to wear black._ She was now shimmying off her fishnets so she was only in her bra and panties. He could feel himself harden, but he tried to push that feeling down. He needed more information first. _What did she know about Theodore Nott, and was she really a fed?_ Blaise didn't work with feds. That was his number one rule. He surely didn't fuck with them, either. Literally and figuratively.

She sat down on the bed across from him and poured herself another drink. Blaise watched her swallow, and he finally decided to speak.

"Are you a fed?" He asked her seriously, "If so, I want nothing to do with the government it is my-"

"Quit, Zabini. Yes, I am a fed, but I figured you'd like my offer," she told him, "You want Theodore Nott gone just as badly as I do. Especially after he framed your mother and locked her away."

Blaise grit his teeth but didn't say anything. He let her continue, "I know you have information about Nott, so why don't you just tell me what you have learned from your little pets? I can then use that information, turn a blind eye to the fact that you were planning to kill him, and we will both be on our way." 

Blaise could no longer keep his composure, "I wasn't going to kill him."

"Come on, Zabini, we both know that's a lie. Even if you didn't do it directly, you were going to hire someone. I know how your family works."

"Why do you care that he gets put away for framing my mom? If you know so much about what my family does then-"

"Because I also have a personal vendetta against Nott."

"Which is?"

She got up and grabbed another glass of alcohol and poured it into a cup. He was learning quickly that she had a high alcohol tolerance. Maybe it helped her focus, just like it seemed to help him.

"He killed my brother, Fred Weasley," she said bluntly, "That fucker deserves to rot in hell."

 _Weasley._ That name sounded familiar. He knew it did even when Tracey had said it downstairs.

"You are from the Weasley family," he realized out loud, _"You are Ginny-"_

"That's right, we are the secret agents that catch assholes like you and lock them away."

"Why not take me then, too?" He asked, "You know what the Zabini's have done."

She smiled, "Because I'm the type of person to know when an ally might be necessary to protect my family. I also know that you are too much of a pussy to ever try something again after knowing I know all your secrets. You will just go back to being a lonely man-whore."

Fuming, Blaise stood up, "I never said I would help you."

"You will if you also don't want to go to prison." 

She smiled at him and he took a deep breath. He sat back down, and she sat next to him. 

"Good," she said, "Are there anymore questions?"

"Was your anger real earlier today? Do you really know Millicent?"

She was tracing his jaw with her finger and leaning in to kiss his neck. He took in a sharp breath. He learned quickly that he was about to quickly receive his payment. 

"Yes," she told him, "That was genuine anger, but it was also a way to size you up. Really see if you are as good as you think you are. Which I'm sorry to say, _you're not._ "

She then moved her hands down and unzipped his fly. Her hands were soon in his pants and he leaned his head back, trying to stifle a moan.

"You-you are very different than you appeared earlier today," he told her with a shaky breath, "I thought you were all about honor."

"Even honorable people can be resourceful," she told him. She then leaned her head down so her lips were close to his groin. Before she wrapped her mouth around him, she added, "And you should know that people have many different sides. You're one of those people."

He was about to respond, but he wasn't able to. He was so overcome by pleasure that he thought he would explode. 

* * *

After his payment, he was sad to watch her put on the same hideous outfit she had on earlier when she chucked a snowball at his face, but he knew now what was underneath those clothes. He would never look at her the same. Especially now that he knew what her mouth felt like wrapped around his dick.

"Now I figure I should tell you how I know Millicent?" 

Blaise nodded as he buttoned up his shirt.

"She has been my friend since childhood. She has let me stay in her dorm room while I investigate Nott. When I heard your name, I was overcome with a feeling of disgust and a need for vengeance. I also knew you would be useful to me since I had heard from Millicent that you kept asking her questions about Nott. You really shouldn't assume that every girl has fucked him. A girl like Millicent really does just want love, and she is not a toy."

Blaise swallowed, "I see."

"So tell me now," she said, "Tell me what you know about Nott."

So he told her. He told her everything. He knew it was his only way not to end up in prison like his mother, and he knew it was the only way he might be able to feel her lips on his once again. Or so he hoped. For once, he didn't want a one fuck and be done with it type of night.

"Thanks for the information, Zabini," she told him, "You may go now."

"That-that's it?" He asked, "That's all?"

"I thought you already received payment in full?" She motioned her head toward the lipstick stain on his collar and the missing buttons on the bottom of his shirt.

Blaise sighed, "Yes, that is all, Miss Weasley. Thank you for your generous payment."

She smiled, _"Anytime."_

* * *

The next day, it was all over the news. Theodore Nott and his father were arrested for their crimes. Blaise took a swig from his whiskey and set the glass down. He had skipped class that day, too amped up from the night before. He was relieved he didn't have to go through with killing Nott. The Weasley girl was right, he really didn't have it in him. He was a pussy, but he knew how to survive.

He was about to pour himself another glass of whiskey when he heard a knock at his door. He got up from his loveseat and opened it quietly. He hated having visitors at the dorm, and always feared that one of his ex-flings would find out which one it was. To his surprise, none of them had yet, _until now._

It was the Weasley girl. She was wearing a jean jacket and black jeans with those hideous combat boots, and she wore dark eyeliner to match the ensemble. She didn't say anything, but she pushed him inside his dorm and slammed his door shut with her foot. Before he knew it, her lips were on his. It all happened so fast, he wasn't sure he could process what was going on. 

She pulled away from him breathlessly, "Thank you for the information on Nott, my vendetta is now over." She went to kiss him again, but he stopped her. She lifted her brow and he grinned.

"I thought I already received my payment?"

She smirked, "You did, but now I'm just here for a little fun."

It was this experience that taught Blaise that there were people out there just as good as he was, _if not better._

 

 


End file.
